THE CURSE OF THE CARDEWS OR AFTER THREE HUNDRED YEARS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 140, 18 March 1909, Page 6

THE CURSE OF THE CARDEWS OR AFTER THREE HUNDRED YEARS.

(All Right* Rtutvwj./

By W. MI'RKAY ORAYDON. Author of "The ni«ckmaUcr»." "Heaping the Whirlwind." "Tha Heir of the Loudouns," Etc.

PART IX. With that enigmatical expression—the train had now resinned its former speed—the man rlo*"d troth door*, looked out of the window for a moment, and then seated himself op|K)»ile to Oeoffrey. "You had a close shave." he said. "How do you feel ?" "Not much the worse." replied CJeoftrey. "though 1 was all hut choked. I owe you my life, foi that short ruffian meant to murder me. and he would have succeeded hut for your prompt assistance You heard tnv about 7"

"Yes. plainly. I«w alone in the next compartment, and t didn't waste any time in crawling over here along the foollioard. My name •s Ferguson—fJordon Ferguson." " And mine is"—he hesitated—"Julian Hordingc." "Well. sir. I'm pleased to meet tnu : and it goes without saying that I'm glad I was aide to do you n service. You look n bit while >et about the gills. Take a pull ni this :" and he produced a flask ml brandy. CJeoftrry gratefully accepted it. ami a drink of the fiery spirit braced him up wonderfully. !!•• sol erect, vowing that he felt quite himx l> rtgoin : and ns he returned the flask and ejonc-d into the other's »a«e. he suddenly recognised his n-s----eiier. whom he hod not seen clearlv iiefore A similar comprehension »cmcd to l«e dawning upon Fergulon's mind at the nmv Instant. He regarded his rompanion with a puzzled, searching stare, and for a moment neither spoke.

cHArrF.it xn. A MYSTERIOUS VISIT. Ferguson broke the silence. "Where's your moustache. Mr. Harlinge?" he demanded, abruptly. "I shaved it of!.-* Geoffrey replied, with a forced smile ; "but on seem to identify me just as readily without it." "It hasn't altered you much, that's a fact. So you arc the same chap 1 questioned earlier in the •vening about Rivera when you were -landing at the top of Regont■•treet ? If* queer that we should have been thrown together again, and through a Spaniard. He and Hut pal meant robbery. I suppose ?"' "That was their motive, beyond a doubt." Geoffrey assented. "You told me you knew nothing about him." Ferguson went on. l»o vou si ill say the same, if it is a fair question to ask ?"

There was an instant oi delay, barely perceptible, while CJeoflrey took rapid thought with himself. The fact that the Spaniard had l»ecn riding in a hansom uilh Carmen furrana. and that he and a confederate should have \iolently attempted a few hours later to get lH>s>e».vion of the chart relating to treasure found thn-e hundred yean* ;igo by one Miguel Torrana an«l Oeoflrey's ancestor, if the ruilian llelcher's allusion to the map wo* to ln» read in that light, sugg. s?.d a mystery of a very deep and complex nature : a mere coincidence it could not lie. It«it the~e wn.n no necessity for mentioning these thing!' fJotuffrey decided, nor could thai omi.vsion stand in the way of hi - giving an honest answer to !»•-' companion's interment ion. "I fold you the truth. Mr Ferguson." he replied. "I Know nothing whatever of the man you call Kit era. You. 1 imagine, aic lielfcr acquainted with him." "To my sorrow." said Ferguson . and his" features swiftly hardened- ' Yes. you are right. I knew .fuan Rivera when he first came out from Spain, and it wasn't a year afterwards that he did me. a bill-i\ grievous wrong, for which I would have killed him like a dog had he been within reach at the lime. In later years he turned up again, siablivd the Dutch Consul, and was .-enl to the convict settlement on the Mazaruni River. 1 bore evidence against him at his trial. And more recently—within a few monlta —he broke out of prison, and «n----discovered at Georgetown. A mob cha>cd him into the harbour one night, and it was generally Itelievcd that the sharks had made an end of him."

"Where «li«l all this hn|»pcii ?" CJcofhvy inquired. **lt happened in HritiMi Uuiaii;i. and as I live there mjwrlf. jou ran understand my knowing so unuh oi Kivcra's history. I have a sugar plantation up in lh« wild*, a coupl«»f clo>»' journey from tJcorgHowii. It Is* a fine country. Mr. Hardingc. You ought to nc it." " I hope to." C«coflrey quietly. **ln fact, lam on u»\ «a> th'-rr now."

To British Guiann 7 " Frrgwwm '•vrlaimvd. in BUrp™***- H«" s»»rvry-r-i hia companion lor n moment. r.'itmg his careless fealurvs onil •nnoth. white hand*. "Ihmn on >jr luck, ch ?" he added, shrew d-

Thnfs just it—flown on my !■:•-!*.'" «i.M?ni«nl Geoffrey. who f«'lt • i' h- might safely confide wi much tht S gonial. Mnd-henrtcd colonial. \.-u are sailing «»y tomorrow's ■ .im r 1 " asked Ferguson. it I can get * pa^aage." Anrl what do you intend to do ••• h«»n >ou reach Georgetown?" I hav.» no plans, except to find ' !tijilo>MMiit of some sort." I suppose that U necessary ?*" I nu.riunately. yes. I must work ■•> live."

It won't b« easy, unless you've H.ui ■ xperiencc." said Ferguson, in a • >n. that implied his uttor ilislielicf Oroffrey's ever having done a •r >kv o< work in his life. " Look »-.«•«. Mr Hardinge, 11l tell you

what It is" He broke oil as nc glanced at the window, through which lights and scattered houses muld now be seen. "We arc getfnig into Southampton," he continned. ."I'll have something to sa> *•• you later if you will come along uith me. Our boat doesn't leave ; 1! >ight o'clock in the morning." I will be glad to come," Geofu■> it.lil him, "if" and he finished the sentence to himself. "You won't regret it," said Ferguson.

Tl-e train sped on through the stii.urltH. and finally glided into the t.iiu.n. That little wor»l if. so ■ repliant with possibilities- for good ami c.il. was in this ease to be <>ii| of any dread meaning for iM-oi.r.'v. though he feared the contrary I nchalleiii;ed. watched by nc ■ r.qiilsii ive «•>< S. he passed out with his new friend into the streets of the ancient seaport town, and as h.lirenthed the fresh night nir. and 1 Hiked tip nt the stars shining ir the ste l-blue vault of the heavens. n rny of lioih? found its way to thi .1 v depths of his soul. "There i» something left to live■or." ln> thought. " Atonement, .•.en for such a sin as mine, is not l-ni -d In (Joel's law. I'crhn|»s sonic • lay in tn-- far future I shall know -"••ace and forget fulness. As for l"i«- past, with is ties ot love and 11-mNM;i. that is buried deep and •or e»c>".""

Th- eil »i i.il st -end a course for a H-\nit I'nth-c-entury inn not for from ill" water, and here, in the seclusion *-f the bar parlour, the two were pns-ntlv enjoying a cold supper ol •read and meat and sparkling ale. The demands of hunger satisfied, they drew their chairs to the oj>en window and lighted cigars. "I rather imagine." Ferguson !>ecnn. abruptly, "that your name it not Harding**." 'lt is not," (JeolTrey soid, calmIt. "I don't mind admitting that. I took nh assumed name and part•«l with my moustache because I had broken with the old life and wished to make n fn-sh start. As for mv reasons"

" Hold on. You needn't go any further." Ferguson interrupted. "I don't n>K for your confidence, and f don't want il. I'm a blunt, i-lnin-.spoken man. and though I may l»e wrong. I*flatter myself that I know n little bit nl>out character. You're a gentleman. Mr. HarHuge, and you've lived like one up to now. That's not hard to read. And what's more, you've done nothing dishonourable. Am 1 right ?" "Quite right." said Geoffrey, returning the other's steady gaze. "J zan honestly assure >ou. Mr. Ferguson, that my honour is unsullied. I have defended that at a bitter «»t." he added, with a sad smile. "I nm a victim of crushing misfortunes. It is through no fault ,'( my own thut 1 haw joined the ranks of the Lost legion." "I'm sure of that." vowed Ferguson. "Hon't tell me any more : we'll drop the past. As for your name, llardinge suits my taste, and Harding.: it .-bull lie. Now. you listen to me for five minutes, and when I've finished you can have vour say. I've taken u sort of fancy to you— I hardly know why—and I'd like to put jou in the way of getting that fresh start. For sixteen years I've In-en working my •Jiignr estate in Guiana, leading a lonely bachelor existence for the greater part of the lime, and acting ns my own manager, clerk, and (•retry well ever) thing else. It hat i«een too much for me, and when I •omo home this Mitiiun-r I determined to take an assistant back with me. I fourth a young fellow up in Scotland, at my native town, and •neoginl him. He was to have Coined me in London to-doy. and i his morning I hooked a passage for him. Xoi an hour later ht *fred me asking to lie let off, as *i« swi-eiheart was set against his fiint:. I couldn't resu.se. so there .on are. I'm left badly in the r irch. Mr. llardinge. mid it will ob- '%■'• ne more than a little i( you til come out to Guinna with me. thai is. ns my hvitwit. The pas- •;!!"<• 1 tioucht for the other man if v«»»i>. anil »iol a |>ennv to pay." "Your kindness overwhelms rue,' replied Geoffrey : 'but \ oil forget Hint I am absolutely inexperienced I should make a worthless overseel I nm afraid." "Xot a bit of it. You'll soon leaTii jour dmies—there's nothing tc <lo bin onl.-r a lot of lazy niggers ■ bout. I'll promise you snug quar-l-rs. plenty lo cat and drink. a fair wage, and a day or a week on whenever you want it. What «lc von sn\ . Mr. llardinge? You'll not n fiis-. 1 ho|>c." "Xo. I won't refuse," Gcoffiv.v •«nid. in n husky voice, after brief reliction. "If you're willing tc take me on trust I'll gladly come. I*he ofler means everything to me. I don't know how to thank jou." "Hon't try." exclaimed Ferguson-

"It's the other way round—you're doing me a ser\iic. The bargair in clinched, then, and here's my hand on it. Well lie off to the boat now—she soil* early—and In-fore wc turn in I want to write a fetter to the police, warning them to keep a lotik-otil for the escu|H>d convict, .Minn Hivera. for whose apprehensior there f* a tidy reward oflered. It's a pily we can't charge the olhvi M*o»indrel."

"I wonder why they.were travelling lo Southampton ?" surmised GlflfflVV.

"Going to Arnrrica. as likely o»r mil." answered Ferguson. " A NV« York liner starts to-morrow. By-lh«-hy, liardingc have you anv lug•n»«c ?" "Only the clothes I stand in." "Well, well fbc you up when we «et to Georgetown. My traps are <ilre iily on board."

Within five minutes the two had left I he inn. and thus it hap|«ned i hat 0.-offrey Cardew. late gentleman «>r fortune and owner of Beechcmiil c. now Julian Hardingc and •h.- |>roH|N-etive overseer of a Brill h Guiana sugar estate. slept Gu.l night-if the fitful rest that he obtained can In? called .*-l-vj> in one of th.» cabins of the Hoyal Mail .Hie.tm.ship Orinoco. The early hours «»f the morning brought heavier and more ficnceftil slumber to his weary mind, and when Ferguson roused Mm at ten o'clock, and he dressed and went cm deck, the smoking .'himm*\M «»f Southampton and the I !«:«• Hnmp<-bir? hill- were far in the wnk.» of the \«-s 1>- fast-revolving wr«-w. It wjis a sad and memorable day. and sadder still was the

falling night—the mantle of darkness that dropped between the ploughing ship and the distant coast of England, and tuned to their lowest, most melancholy key the aching heart-strings of the exil; who was faring forth upon the vast unknown.

Other scenes and other places. A land of torrid heat and tropical vegetation, of such pathless wilderness and tangled valley as the imagination must fail to conceive, thousands of miles from the misty. rain-beaten British Isles that are loved with such undying affection by those to whom they have given birth. In British (Juiana tip country really means clown" country, and Cordon Ferguson's plantation lay sixty or seventy miles to tin- south of Georgetown—a journey from the. roast that was made easy for part of the way by roads construct i-d by convict labour. One or two other sugar estates, widely separated, were in the same remote neighbourhowl, which was the fertile basin of the Esscquibo River. Save for these the forest was unbroken and uncleared, as primeval as it was in the dim past when Raleigh's galleons first ploughed the waters of the Orinoco. It stretched endbssl\. magnificently wild and unexplored, a dread, uncanny region of Ix-asts and serpents, and Indians who were more fierce and savage than either. What |»erils lurked there, what dark secrets it held, no man knew, though many bclie\cd it to Ik' as rich in gold as ever it was thought to l>e in the days when it was called El Dorado and Manoa'fc Land.

That the next neighbour was mil.* away and that the nearest s<-ttl--ment was the convict prison on the distant Mazaruni were matters of indifference to Geoffrey, who would not have cared had he l>een even fiir«her from such civilisation as Ibilish Guiana can boast. Ily the close of August, when the dry season fairly Ix-gun, he had been at San I'arima —as Ferguson's estatr u:i« called —for some weeks. lie had rapidly picked up a knowledge of the business, und of his business as overseer ; an<l. since he had his troubles bravely and with Spartan endurance, he was the clu-erful friend and companion that his employer had wished him to be above all else : for it was the growing monotony of his lonely life rather than need of help that had prompt--•d Ferguson's offer to a man who was not only a stranger to him, but was admittedly under a cloud.

After the day's toil and an evening spent with the genial Scotchman. Geoffrey's slumbers were profound and dreamless. He was sleeping thus at an early hour one morning in his room at the end ol the low, single-stonjyed bungalow, when he woke up with a suddenness that was enough to rouse his suspicions and urge him to inquire into the cause of his broken rest. The latter was not far to seek. As he sat erect, blinking his eyes and listening, he saw a man's figure vaguely outlined against the window^

CHAPTER XIII. A SUSPICIOUS JOUKXEY. Though the dawn was flushing up from the horizon, it was still too dark to see with any distinctness. Warned by the rustling movements and altered breathing that came from the bed, the intruder lost no time in getting out of harm's reach, though he carried a knife in his hand. In his fright he let the weapon drop, and vaulting instantly over the window-sill he had disai>peared ere Geoffrey was on his feet and across the floor. A glimpse of a shadowy form darting down the garden, to lie swallowed as quickly by the shrubbery, brought the unpleasant episode to a close. "Xo use to give an alarm," muttered Geoffrey, repressing the impul-H to shout.

He threw aside the revolver he hat snatched from the table, lighted n candle, and picked up the abandoned knife. It was a weapon of a common type, such as might have belonged to any coolie on the i-statt with or without the knowledge o< Ferguson ami his overseer, and for that reason it was not likely to lx--trav its owner.

"One of those confounded niirg'-rs.' vowed Geoffrey, "lie came u steal, of course-, and if I had grappled with him I daresay I should have got this ln'twifn the ribs'— feeling the sharp edge of tin* blade. "Had he just climbed in. 1 wonder. or was he on the point of leaving?" Investigation soon answered the query. His clothes, which he had hung over a chair, lav on the fiooi with the pockets turned inside out and beside them, strange to say were a few coins and his pocketknife. Either the thief had despised such small gain, or his motive wa> deeper than ordinary robbery. Geoffrey suddenly remembered that on a previous occasion, a week before. he had found his clothing disarranged in a manner for which he could not account.

"By Jove ! the same fellow «ahere* before," he told himself. "There is only one thing he could have been after, since he cl«arl\ didn't want money. And that iso wildlv improbable, so ridiculous—no, I cant take it seriously. Coin, to think of it, though, it wouldn t lie a bit more queer than some ol the things that have happened to m< since Mcnzies gave me those cursec papers. At all events. I know what I shall do in the morning. Whether that old parchment is of value or not, I don't mean to be robbed of it. I'll put it in a safer place. and if my unknown visitor returns I'll have a trap fixed for him." With that Geoflrey blew out the rnndlc and went to bed, where he slept until it was fully light. On rising he at once lifted a loose board "in the floor, and took from under it the parchment tioasu rechart.' which he transferred to his pocket. •-'I won't speak to Ferguson about last night," he decided. "If I told him anvthing it would have to be all.' 1 (To be Continued j.